What He Knew
by obsessedwithstabler
Summary: I was holding my partner in my arms, promising him that help was coming, that he was going to be okay if he could just hold on for a few more moments. He had to be.


I got the idea for this after seeing the newest preview for the second half of Loyalty. In it, it shows this incredible BA hug. None of that side, she's brushing him off crap. A full on HUG. Yay! You would think that that would make me write a happier story... This is pretty much what I hope DOESN'T happen. Enjoy, and please review!

**Warning: Major character death! Kleenex's willl be provided!!!**

Disclaimer: Not mine!!

CICICICICICICICICICI

He knew.

He knew all along what I refused to accept, or to even acknowledge. He knew it.

He knew that the first time we made love after he came to me in the middle of the night would be the last. He knew that the first time he held me as we drifted off to sleep would be the only time, and he tried to make it last just a little longer than it could.

He knew that that day would be his last day at work, and maybe that's why he chose that light blue shirt I bought him for his birthday years ago. He knew how much I loved seeing him wearing it, and maybe he thought it would be a comfort to me.

It wasn't.

In that warehouse, as we stood against the man who had killed our captain and friend, he knew that it would come down to a choice. He tried to talk the man down, to reason and bargain with him. He never wanted to pull his piece. Never in his career had he wanted that.

Time slowed to a crawl as the bastard turned and pointed his gun at me, and every time I close my eyes, I see those fateful moments in my mind. Like a horror movie that you desperately want to stop, it just keeps going and going. The deafening sound of a shot being fired. My ears ringing as I yelled his name and shot off a round of my own. His big body jerking as the bullet tore through him. Blood spurting out of the wound before he even hit the ground.

I didn't have to look to know that my one shot had been a kill shot. I had aimed for his fucking head, and I knew I'd hit my mark. My gun fell from my hand as my arms shot out, catching my partner in my arms. We dropped to the ground, and vaguely I heard other officers rush the place.

But it didn't fucking matter. I was holding my partner in my arms, promising him that help was coming, that he was going to be okay if he could just hold on for a few more moments. He had to be.

He knew that it wasn't true. He knew that he wasn't going to make it, but I refused to believe it. I cradled his head to my shoulder and suppressed a violent shudder as his blood soaked my clothes. I couldn't let myself believe that this would be the last time I'd ever hold him in my arms. I just… couldn't.

He somehow understood this, and he used what little of his strength that remained to wrap a strong arm around me and hug me. I cried, pleaded, and even threatened him, because I honestly thought that he could pull through. My world was disintegrating as I looked into those beautiful eyes and kissed him softly.

He knew that he was dying, and in those final moments, he whispered to me how much he loved me, and how he would always look out for me.

I don't remember screaming as his eyes closed for the last time, but I remember holding my hand against his chest and feeling his gentle heart cease to beat beneath it.

Now here I am, seven months later, with a single rose in my hand and Mike Logan by my side as I stand in front of his grave. The days following his death, up until I saw him lying so still in that casket, were a blur to me. I couldn't, and I still can't, accept the fact that the only man I loved with my entire being is gone.

His mother's engagement ring is on a golden chain around my neck, after only a night of residing on my left hand. Maybe one day I'll find it in me to put it on again, but not today.

My hand drifts down to my swollen abdomen, where his children rest. We hadn't discussed birth control that night, and in a way, I'm glad we didn't. In two months, I'll have his children to love and live on for. And in another way, I hate him for leaving me to raise them on my own. They'll look like him, I'm sure. Sometimes, when I'm alone at night, I cry in our bed and curse God for ever allowing into my life the wonder that was Bobby Goren. But in the following breath, I always apologize. Because as badly as it hurts, I have two reasons to move on with my life, to try to be happy.

Maybe he knew.

The End...

A/N: I know! I was bawling like a baby while writing this!! But I hope that this stays right here in my story, and the rumors that only one of the three dies continues to be true. Ross is dead, so we have to believe that BA walks away unscathed. *fingers crossed* I hope no one is crying too hard to review, and next up I'm going to convince the muse to write something nice 'n fluffy for the BA lovers as we await tomorrow night's ep. For me, and many of you out there I'm sure, Loyalty pt2 will be the final ep we watch. No Goldblum!!! Go back to Cats and Dogs!!! I'm terrible, but this guy is even worse. He's like Monk without the OCD, and we know that's no fun! Well, it's four am. Enough of my rambling. Thanks for reading, and please remember to review while I turn my tears into fluff!!


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